Mademoiselle D'Artagnan of the Musketeers
by yaoigirl22
Summary: Treville wasn't sure why D'Artagnan was in a dress, and didn't really want to know. He'd just wish Aramis would stop staring at the boy's 'heaving bosom'. Also D'Artagnan's honor and virtue gets defended at some point. NOT SLASH!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own BBC's The Musketeers**

**A/N: As you can see, this is a cross-dressing fic, with the victim being the adorable D'Artagnan, THIS IS NOT SLASH! I just want to mess with the boys a bit.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Mademoiselle D'Artagnan of the Musketeers**

The last time either of them had been in Paris, they were hiding from Red Guards and Musketeers alike, holed up in the Court of Miracles for four days with one hand on the trigger and one eye on the door.

"_Ah, memories" _Alban thought with a grin, the grin growing bigger at the thought of what the Cardinal's face must have looked like when the man had been informed that he and his companion had got away.

"What are you grinning about?" his companion asked.

"Just thinking about our darling, Basile" Alban said.

Basile raised a brow knowing that his friend only spoke half the truth but left him be, instead he focused on finding the tavern their entail told them about. He found it and the two ducked inside, pausing for a moment at the door, eyes searching.

"There he is" Alban whispered tilting his head to the right.

Basile looked and smiled before going to the barkeep and ordering three cups, with them in hand Basile and Alban went over to the occupied table where the owner was engrossed with his meal.

"Hello darling" Alban purred.

The owner of the table paused before slowly looking up at the two men, eyes widen in disbelief before lips widened into a smile.

"Basile! Alban!"

Some heads turned at the sudden cry, but turned back to whatever they were doing when they realized it was merely three men hugging each other (one being carefully of the drinks in hand) and not a brawl about to start.

"What are you doing here?" D'Artagnan asked when they released each other and sat back down, "when did you arrive?"

"Last night" Alban answered.

"As for why, we've come to see you of course" Basile said, "we've missed you in Gascony"

"You two returned to Gascony?" D'Artagnan asked with a raised brow, skepticism in his voice.

"Well, not officially" Alban smiled before drinking his wine.

The Gascon shook his head amusement in his eyes, "Still getting into mischief then"

"Only a little" reassured Basile.

D'Artagnan snorted, he knew well 'a little' grow into 'a lot' more often than not with these two, didn't help that he was usually right along with them, their poor mothers could write volumes of their misadventures; as they were affectionately called, as children. While their backsides could tell you how many whippings it endured because of said misadventures…..well the ones they got caught at doing anyway.

"So tell me, what really brings you two to Paris?" the young Musketeer then asked as he went back to his meal, vaguely he wondered what was taking his other friends so long to get here.

Alban and Basile looked at each other than back at their friend.

"Oh no, I know that look" D'Artagnan groaned.

"Please darling, for old times' sake" Alban begged.

"Old times usually end with me in women's clothing, and running away in very uncomfortable shoes"

It wasn't the women's clothes or the shoes that bothered him, it was the being fired at while he was wearing said clothing and shoes that did.

Their poor mothers.

"For the last time, I'm sorry" Basile sighed, "I thought for sure the place wasn't guarded"

"And yet it was, and I got shot at" D'Artagnan huffed.

"Well you should be used to it now, with you being a Musketeer and all" Alban then said taking in his friend's uniform.

D'Artagnan felt his chest puff up in pride for just a bit, still high on excitement and disbelief at finally being a Musketeer, despite it being six months since the day.

"How is it? Being a Musketeer?" Basile asked.

"Dangerous at times, sometimes boring, but I'm having fun either way, but you know that already don't you"

Basile grinned wickedly at the pointed look his friend gave, neither confirming nor denying.

"Made any friends to replace us?" Alban then asked.

"_**No one**_ could replace you two lunatics"

"Hm, good answer"

"But I have found three men who I would call friends, brothers even"

Both Alban and Basile raised a brow at the soft look that fell upon their friend's face, of how the eyes shined with fondness and love, the same look that long ago was often directed at them.

"I have a sudden urge to go find them and demand a duel for your honor and virtue" Basile suddenly said, snickering when D'Artagnan glared at him.

At least the fact that his friend's glares were as about a frightening as a puppy hadn't changed.

"Dueling is illegal and punishable by hanging" D'Artagnan then said.

"It's only illegal if you get caught" Basile sing-songed.

The Musketeer rolled his eyes, "Don't say I didn't warn you"

"And we have been warned, now about that favor" Alban then said

D'Artagnan groaned, "Alright" he then sighed after enduring a few moments of begging eyes, "let's hear it"

Basile shook his head, "Not here" he then said softly, "outside later"

D'Artagnan gave his friend a look, but nodded.

"Great!" Alban then pushed the younger's bowl toward him, "now finish eating, you're much too thin for my taste, aren't those Musketeers of yours feeding you?"

The Gascon sighed.

Some moments later D'Artagnan was being led into a dark alley.

"You know if you are going to kill me, couldn't you have done it someplace that didn't smell like piss" he said.

"And that is why you wear the dress, only a woman would complain about the smell in the face of death" Alban complained.

D'Artagnan doubted that, but said nothing, instead he looked expectantly at Basile.

"Alright, it's pretty much like this"

And he explained everything, once done he and Alban waited.

"Are you insane!?" the Musketeer said in a harsh whispered, glancing around nervously as though expecting someone to jump out of the shadows and attack them.

"I thought we already established that we were insane" Alban said to Basile.

"You hush" D'Artagnan snapped at him before turning his attention back at Basile, "do you know what would happen if we got caught, we'd be executed on the spot!"

And he really didn't want know what Athos would do if he found out.

The Musketeer shivered at the thought.

"We won't get caught" Basile reassured, "we never have"

Which was true enough, when they first began their misadventures as children they got caught a lot, but they were quick to learn from their mistakes (turns out avoiding getting your backside whipped is a great motivation) which helped them as they got older and went beyond sneaking food, toys, pulling pranks and other things. Sure the last time they had been together they got chased and shot at but they didn't get caught, and their faces were not recognized.

"D'Artagnan, please" Alban said taking hold of his hand, "please darling, you're the only one we can trust with this"

"The Musketeers—"

"You just recently finished an assignment and your Captain had given you time off" Basile said.

Not surprised, D'Artagnan stared at his friends who were waiting almost desperately for his answer, giving a small grin he nodded.

"Why not" he then said, "I could go for one more misadventure"

_**~.~**_

When he returned to the tavern, his table had been taken, but Aramis, Athos, and Porthos were waiting at another.

"There you are, we were wondering if you had wandered off somewhere" Porthos said when their youngest sat down.

"I told them you probably ran into a lovely mademoiselle, who you rather spend time with, then us old men" said Aramis.

D'Artagnan merely smiled before swiping Porthos bottle of wine, ignoring the other man's annoyed huff, as he listened to Aramis latest story, he debated on whether or not to tell his friends of the mission he just accepted.

Both Basile and Alban were older than him, Basile was five years his senior while Alban was four, and unlike D'Artagnan who had decided to take over the family farm before fate decided he was better suited at being a Musketeer, Basile and Alban had both left Gascony to become explorers, it wasn't long before stories reached him (when he was still in Gascony) about two men, at the right price, will do anything you need of them.

Be it delivering messages, theft, investigating, or even assassination.

When asked about it during one of their visits, both confessed to D'Artagnan that it was true, though the assassination part was not (and what a story that had been), he didn't ask why, for he knew the answer to that.

Still he worried.

Basile for one, refused to name their client no matter how much D'Artagnan asked, not even Alban would budge. When asked if the client was a threat to the King and France, the two still wouldn't say anything, and while he wanted to believe his friends weren't traitors…..

"D'Artagnan?"

"Hm?"

The younger blinked out of thoughts to discover his friends were giving him curious looks.

"Something on your mind my friend?" Aramis asked.

"No" the Gascon answered with a smile, before taking Athos bottle of wine and adding to his other stolen bottle, gaining a glare from his mentor and snickers from Aramis and Porthos.

"I'd give that back" Aramis advised when Athos's glare darken, "he doesn't look happy"

"Porthos will protect me" D'Artagnan said leaning against the bigger man.

"Only if he doesn't start shooting" said Porthos as he rescued his kidnapped bottle.

"You'd let him shot me?" the young Musketeer gasp in mock horror.

"Don't worry, we'll make sure the Caption says nice things at your funeral" said Aramis

D'Artagnan turned wide-eyes back to Athos, "You wouldn't really shoot me over a bottle of wine, would Athos?" he asked softly.

"Yes" came the answer.

D'Artagnan pouted but gave the bottle back, and as he attention was taken by Porthos who asked how his mission with two other Musketeers went (the three older men had not been pleased when they learned that their youngest had been assigned a mission with another group that wasn't them and was gone for more days than expected), the young Musketeer made a decision.

He'd trust his old friends, just like he trust his new ones.

_**~.~**_

The house was on the outskirts of the city, it was simple, a quick glance then just as quickly dismissed.

"Welcome to our humble home" Athos bowed when he opened the door.

"And whose home is this?" D'Artagnan asked as he entered.

"A friend of Basile's, he's letting us use it for tonight"

D'Artagnan hummed as he entered what looked like the kitchen, it had a table.

"You're late" Basile said.

"Do you know how hard it is to sneak out of a Garrison of Musketeers?" the Gascon grumbled, "especially if I'm not going to a Traven or Brothel"

"Point taken" Basile said, "well your clothes are in the room down the hall, first door to your right"

D'Artagnan nodded and made his way there, "No peeking!" he called over his shoulder.

"Why must you ruin all my fun darling!"

When he entered the room D'Artagnan blinked at the sight of the copper tube, he wondered where in the world his friends got one before dismissing it, they were on limited time. Finding his clothing on the bed in the corner (taking note that there was no windows), he went over to the table where a mirror and shaving kit was waiting.

He started with his face, as he cut off his facial hair he mourned it, it had taken months to finally gain some hair on his face (even if Porthos and Aramis teased him about his peach fuzz of a mustache). After he was done he took off his shirt and got to work on his underarms and chest.

He had learned early (and one memorable misadventure that involved a goose, colored wigs and a nude Basile) on it was best to be completely hairless as possibly.

Once freshly shaven, he got into the tube, today's dirt washing off of him leaving him feeling fresh and clean. He dried himself off with a surprisingly soft towel before going to the bed, he put on his small cloths before picking up the corset, he made a face at the thing before glancing at the other items that would allow him the illusion of breasts.

He hated this part.

"Basile!" he then yelled loudly.

Some moments later Basile opened the door, the man was half dressed

"Why does he always call you!?" came Alban's voice from the kitchen.

"Because I know how to keep my hands to myself!" the oldest answered back before closing the door, "ready" he then said to D'Artagnan.

The younger nodded.

After stuffing his 'breasts', D'Artagnan grabbed hold of the table, Basile grabbed the two ties and pulled.

"_I really really hate this" _the Musketeers thought with a grunt.

Once the corset was pulled properly tight, it was time for the dress. The dress was a dark red with a neckline that was high enough not to show cleavage and was sleeveless, after helping with the dress his friend left, D'Artagnan turned his attention back to the bed where a long wavy dark colored wig was waiting. Once the wig was properly on, the young Musketeer went back to the table, where the face paints were waiting.

Learning to find the right paints for his skin color and how much to apply didn't take long to learn, of course he had the thanks of the local prostitutes in Gascony for that.

Finally after the jewelry and shoes that were thankfully comfortable and the matching red shawl, he looked at himself in the mirror on the wall. When he was younger and dressed this way no one thought he was anything but a beautiful young woman, he was older now and had worried he would no longer be able to pull of the disguise.

Turned out he was wrong to worry.

Smiling a little, D'Artagnan left the room and made his way to the kitchen.

"Well?"

Both men stared at the youngest, neither moving nor saying a word, for a moment D'Artagnan feared that perhaps he had been wrong in assuming, then Alban grinned.

"You're gorgeous" he purred.

Basile nodded in agreement, D'Artagnan gave smile before looking over his two partners in crime, they too were dressed elegantly, and looked very handsome indeed.

"You two looked presentable" he teased, as he took the red and white mask Basile handed to him.

Alban pouted while Basile chuckled before both older men held out their arms toward him.

"Shall we then Milady?" Alban said.

Taking both arms, all three headed out the door.

"…Where did you get a carriage?"

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**_Review Please!_**

**_Also, if you're wondering what D'Artagnan's mask looks like here : www . justposhmasks product / 183 / Small _ Masquerade _ Masks _ - _ Masquerade _ Masks _ for _ Kids _ - _ Piccolina _ Silver /_**

**_And here's his dress, just imgine it with a v-shaped high neck line and a red silk shawl: www . pinterest pin / 370280400585116445 /_**


	2. Chapter 2

**Mademoiselle D'Artagnan of the Musketeers**

The party was being held at the villa an hour out from Paris, it was built by the King's father as a sort of vacation home for the royal family. The three arrived before the target; who would be arriving fashionably late according to Alban's informer, but late enough that the serving wine would have started to take a bit of effect on both the host and guests.

As customary, the three go and introduce themselves to the King and Queen, as_Garsie-Sanche le Tors_ , his sister Charlotte and their cousin Alban, after bowing; D'Artagnan resist the urge to check to see if his mask is properly in place under the curious looks of Treville and the Cardinal, who were as usual; stationed next to the royals.

"I'm glad that you and your family were able to attend my party" the King said after introductions, "I do hope you enjoy yourselves"

D'Artagnan gives a small smile at the flirtatious grin the King gave him, the three bow once more before going to go mingle with the other guests; Treville's gaze following him as he merged with the crowd.

It didn't take long for it to become known that Charlotte was the _**unwedded**_ sister of the equally _**unwedded**__Garsie-Sanche le Tors__,_ Alban watched with no small amount amusement as they're surrounded by men and women of nobility, the man watched as the two hold a kind of court of their own for a few moments before slipping away. He grabbed a goblet of wine and settled himself in a spot that will allow him to see their target enter.

_**~.~**_

"Someone is certainly popular" Aramis comment, watching the two people who had been surrounded.

"Not sure if that's a good thing" said Porthos, watching as the Cardinal slipped into the crowd, close enough to hear the conversation but far enough not seem as though he was eavesdropping.

Athos eyed the serving wine with longing.

"She looks familiar though" Aramis then said with a tilted head, eyes trailing down the lithe figure dressed in red, eyes lingering for a moment at the woman's bosom then back at the face.

"How can you tell with the mask?" Porthos asked.

"Her smile" Aramis answered, "you're on duty Athos" he then said not looking away from the woman.

Athos, who had been inching closer to the wine, gives a quick groan and moved back to stand next to Porthos (he wasn't going to drink any, just smell it). To take his mind off his denied wine, Athos turned his attention to the woman that had gained Aramis's attention. She was speaking with a noble woman, court gossips no doubt, she was also smiling; and the Musketeer is surprised at how familiar it was to him.

"Huh" Porthos said when a familiar feeling comes over him as he stared at the young woman's smile, "it is familiar"

"Perhaps she had attended another of the King's parties" Athos suggested.

"Maybe" Aramis said, gaze thoughtful.

The _Garsie-Sanche le Tors_ catches them watching his sister, to their surprise he doesn't glare or come over to demand they avert their gaze; instead he pulled his sister closer and whispered in her ear. His sister blinked at him before looking in their direction. Aramis gives a flirty grin, Porthos smiled, and Athos gives a small polite bow of the head. The sister's cheeks flush and quickly turned away, the brother chuckled before turning his attention to a noble man.

"That was interesting" Athos said before giving Aramis a look.

"What?"

Athos raised a brow.

"I didn't sleep with her" Aramis whispered.

Athos's brow goes higher.

"….Okay, it's possible, but the mask makes it hard to tell"

Porthos snorted.

_**~.~**_

Alban slipped into the crowd that were surrounding his friends

"Excuse me" Alban smiled, "but if you don't mind, I would like to dance with my cousin, Charlotte"

D'Artagnan took Alban's held out hand and is lead out to the dance floor, he gives the older man a warning look when a hand was placed on his waist and he was pulled nearly inappropriately close, Alban merely gives cheeky grin back as he leads the other in the dance.

"It's seems that you have many admirers, and not just of the nobility kind either" Alban whispered to him.

D'Artagnan said nothing, ever since Blaise had pointed out that his friends were watching him, D'Artagnan had made it a point not to look at them, for fear that they may somehow recognize him, it was bad enough that Captain Treville kept looking at him.

"Our target has arrived, over my right shoulder with the blue mask, and matching colored clothing"

D'Artagnan looked, he spots said target, the disguised young man memorized the man's clothing, mask and other details before looking back at Alban. He doesn't ask the man if he was sure, just nodded. Their dance end, Alban bowed before leading them over to their target; each grabbing wine along the way. They easily slip into the conversation, their target; a Duke. Is easily charmed by the soft spoken Charlotte, and it isn't long before the man is asking for a dance.

"That is a lovely mask you are wearing Mademoiselle Charlotte" the Duke commented as they glided across the floor.

"Thank you, yours look quite handsome, is the face behind it equally so?"

"Well aren't you a forward one" the Duke chuckled, "I don't think your brother will approve"

"He will only disapprove if you tell him"

The Duke laughed.

Meanwhile, Porthos joined Aramis and Athos after doing his portal, his eyes land on _Garsie-Sanche le Tors's_ sister, Charlotte Aramis found out; who was dancing with the Duke.

"Do you know her?"

All three look at their Captain.

"_Garsie-Sanche le Tors_'s sister, Charlotte, do you know her?" Treville asked.

"As much as anyone" Athos answered.

"Something wrong?" asked Porthos

Treville doesn't answer as he watched Charlotte dance with the Duke, ever since she had been introduced, the Captain found his eyes drawn to the young woman; something the King had caught him in and teased him about. True, Charlotte had a pleasing figure and alluring eyes, and a sweet smile that was so familiar that it probed all of his instincts and kept drawing his eyes back to the woman.

"Keep an eye on her" Treville finally said before returning to his position by the King and Queen.

_**~.~**_

After leaving D'Artagnan to work his charm, Alban moved over to Basile who was subtly fighting off the advances of a noble woman. After rescuing his friend, the two move to a spot that allowed them to watch D'Artagnan and the Duke…along with a few others.

"I do believe our little Charlotte has charmed more than the Duke" Alban noted, eyes on the three Musketeers station as guards, he had seen them stare at D'Artagnan at one moment or another; at one point he had seen them talking to Captain Treville, who had also been watching D'Artagnan.

"Should we be worried?" Basile asked.

"Not sure, oh that was fast"

Both men watched as the Duke slipped out the room with D'Artagnan, a hand placed possessively on the small of the younger's back. The two wait a few moments before Alban followed, Basile finished his wine before doing the same.

With D'Artagnan's soft giggles echoing down the empty halls, it's easy enough to follow the two, hidden in the shadows Alban and Basile watch as the two slip into a room, the door closing shut with a soft thud. The two moved to the closed door, listening to the muffled sounds behind the door, the two men took out their concealed muskets. A sudden surprise yelp, made them freeze for a moment before, with a nod to each other; they kick open the door.

"Bonjour!" Alban said cheerfully, musket trained on the Duke.

"Right on time, that's a first" D'Artagnan commented, in his hand is a dagger that is pressed at the Duke's crotch, voice still soft and feminine.

"Don't say that darling, especially in front of our guest" Alban pouted, behind him Basile close the doors, "he'll think bad of us"

"Charlotte, please relieve the Duke of his effects" Basile then said.

The Duke suddenly backhanded D'Artagnan, knocking the surprised young man to the ground, Alban fired, shooting the man in the leg. The man gives out a cry of pain and fell to the ground clenching his injured leg, Basile then grabbed the man by the collar, punched him before dragging him to a chair and pushing him into it.

"I advise you not to do that again" said Basile, tone soft, eyes cold, musket pressed against the man's head, "do we have an understanding?"

After a moment's pause, the Duke nodded.

"Alright?" asked Alban helping D'Artagnan up, eyes blazing with rage at the sight of the bleeding lip, and slowly bruising jaw.

"Fine" D'Artagnan said.

"Wha—she's a man!?" exclaimed the Duke

Alban blinked and took another look at his friend, the mask and wig had fallen off, he also realized that D'Artagnan had answered in his normal voice.

"Oh" Alban said, looking at the shocked Duke then back at the wide-eyed younger.

Suddenly the door flew open, and Athos, Porthos, and Aramis came bursting in, swords and muskets drawn.

"Well this looks—D'Artagnan?"

"Um, surprise?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Last chapter, thank you all who have waited patiently, read, and reviewed this story, and who knows, Mademoiselle D'Artagnan may come back. **

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**Mademoiselle D'Artagnan of the Musketeers**

Eyes trail down and lock onto them, they are round and a good size, prefect for holding and squeezing. His hand twitched.

"Stop staring"

Aramis looks up from the breasts, and to D'Artagnan's face, he lingered before his eyes are trailing back down.

"_Aramis!"_

"I have a sudden urge to defend your virtue and honor"

"_Porthos!"_

"Will someone please explain why we have a Duke tied up" Athos spoke up, "and _**why**_ D'Artagnan is dressed as a woman?"

"Well, those all excellent questions" Alban answered, "I suppose when can start with the Duke is not really a Duke, and I suppose the reason why D'Artagnan is in a dress is because he just looks lovely in it"

Athos looked at D'Artagnan who blinked at him, the Musketeer then cleared his throat and looked away, cheeks red.

"I suppose he does" Athos mumbled.

"_Athos!"_

"Perhaps we should get back to the issue at hand" said Basile from where he still had the Duke at gun point. "Gentlemen met Monsieur Alexandre, a hired assassin, Monsieur Alexandre, the King's Musketeers"

The assassin glared at the man.

"Now, now" Basile tsked, "what did I say about rudeness earlier?"

Alexandre glanced at the musket, before turning to the Musketeers, "Hello" he mumbled.

"I suppose that will do" Basile then turned his attention to the Musketeers, Aramis, had finally gotten over his shock, noticed the forming bruise on D'Artagnan's cheek; and was now fussing over him. "Alexandre here was hired by a _**real**_ Duke, to make an attempted assassination" he told Athos.

"Attempted?"

Basile nodded, "Make it look like it was done by the order of the King or Cardinal, I'm not quite sure of which, but the end results would have been that it was given someone of high power a good enough reason to break a treaty with France"

"Without worrying about the consequences" Athos concluded.

"Yes, and perhaps siding with Spain, though you didn't hear the last part from me"

"Ow! Aramis"

"Sorry"

"And you have proof of this?" asked Porthos.

"Well considering we were _**supposed **_to do away with him without anyone the wiser, no we don't" Alban shrugged, "though I'm sure if you check his pockets, you'll find something or if you search his little hideout, yep we know about that" he then added when Alexandre's eyes widened.

"And how exactly were you going to do away with him?" asked Aramis.

D'Artagnan had finally gotten away from the man and was currently taking off his shoes, they were starting to hurt. Aramis on the other hand, was now checking on the assassin's injured leg. They were lucky the man didn't pass out from the blood loss.

"Ah, that"

All three Musketeers raised a brow at the mischievous grins Alban and Basile give them, their curiosity growing when D'Artagnan snickered.

"How did you get him to agree to help?" D'Artagnan asked.

"Money, and geese, a lot of geese"

"Why—"

"As interesting as this conversation is," Athos interrupted, "perhaps we should get back on topic, and Porthos, go get Treville"

Porthos nodded, and left.

"You've been quiet Monsieur Alexandre" Basile then said, looking down at the man he still had at gun point, "nothing to say, perhaps in your defense?"

"No, you summarized it perfectly"

All of them looked at him in surprise.

"…..Really?" Alban then said after a moment of surprise, "just like that? No denial, pleas or offers?"

Perhaps the blood loss was finally getting to the man.

Before Alexandre could answer, the door opened and Treville walked in, with Porthos trailing behind him. Athos had a feeling that Treville had been looking for them, it was the only way for Porthos to find and bring their Captain here so quickly.

"What's going o—why is D'Artagnan in a dress? And _**why**_ is Aramis staring at his….breasts?"

"Aramis, I told you to stop staring!" D'Artagnan huffed.

"I can't help it!" Aramis whined, "they look so real…can I touch them?"

"No!"

"Can I touch them?" asked Porthos from behind the Captain

"No, and no you can't touch them either Athos, now can we get back to the task at hand please?"

Athos closed his mouth with a snap, and with one last lingering look at the bosoms that was now hidden underneath crossed arms, everyone turned back to the man in the chair. Aleixandre looked at the Musketeers and their Captain, then at the man holding the gun, the man's partner before finally landing on the disguised man.

"Can I touch them?"

"_**No!**_" came his answer from all around, excluding D'Artagnan who just groaned.

It was a long night.

_**~.~**_

"…..I want to shot them"

"I don't think he'll approve"

"I'll buy him wine to make up for it"

"That only works for you"

"I have mixed feelings about this"

The three looked back at the bed, it wasn't big but somehow the three sleeping on it were able to fit in it. They were still wearing their clothing from last night, D'Artagnan was curled up in the middle, mask and shoes gone. On his left was one man, he was curled up and pressed close to D'Artagnan's back, the younger's dress had been pushed up; and the man's hand had placed itself on D'Artagnan's exposed leg. The man on D'Artagnan's left had buried his face in their young friend's fake bosoms with a leg wedged between the Musketeer's.

All in all it looked very compromising.

Athos's fingers twitched for his gun….or sword, he wasn't feeling particularly picky.

"I think we should wake them" Aramis said after more staring.

Porthos nodded and moved closer to the bed, the moment he accidently brushed against the man whose face is buried in D'Artagnan's chest, in an effort to wake their youngest; he found himself staring down the barrel of a musket.

"Oh" yawned the man holding said gun, "it's you, sorry about that"

The musket is shoved back underneath the pillow, and the man's face is back in D'Artagnan's bosom, luckily for him, the sudden movement woke D'Artagnan. The young Musketeer yawned as he sat up, dislodging his bedmates who merely grumbled and rolled over, he blinked sleepily at his fellow Musketeers who stare back waiting for some kind of explanation. D'Artagnan merely grunted at them before climbing over one of his bedmates and out of bed.

Yawning again, D'Artagnan starts to undress,

As one, the three Musketeers turned around, cheeks, for some reason; red.

"…Why are we looking away?" Porthos whispered to his two friends after a moment.

"…..Erm…."

_**~.~**_

"So who was that gentleman from last night?" Aramis asked.

After Alban and Blaise were woken up by D'Artagnan, the men and Musketeers crowded into the kitchen for a late breakfast, which was rich food that Alban and Blaise had brought up from the who knew where and refused to tell D'Artagnan where they got it from; though the younger seemed to have an idea judging from the gleam in his eyes.

"A friend" Blaise answered.

After interrogating the captured assassin for an hour and deciding that they learned all they could get, Blaise had then dragged man and chair toward the large double doors that lead to a balcony, and tossed the man over the rail before Treville and the three Musketeers could do or say anything. Surprised and slightly horrified, Treville and the other Musketeers had hurried over and looked over the rail.

Instead of finding a dead body, they find the now cursing assassin being pulled out of bushes by a cloaked man, who upon seeing the Captain and other Musketeers tipped his hat before lifting and tossing the assassin into the waiting carriage with surprising strength.

Dumbfounded, Treville and the three Musketeers watched as the man climbed into the driver's seat and with a flick of the reins, drove off. When they finally turned around, D'Artagnan and the other men were gone, leaving nothing behind but a note with an address and a time.

"Sorry about that," Alban apologized around a mouthful of food, "but we had specific instructions on what to do with the assassin once he captured him. We couldn't let you have him"

"And who gave you those instructions?" Athos asked him from the where he was leaning against the wall, eyes locked onto how close the two men were sitting next to D'Artagnan at the table. He didn't like it.

"Revealing our client's name would make for poor business" Alban grinned; it was full of teeth and very much a warning.

"Alban" D'Artagnan said, eyes narrowed.

"My apologizes darling"

"Darling?" inquired Aramis as he and his friends looked at their youngest.

Surprisingly D'Artagnan didn't blush or even look embarrassed, instead he merely rolled his eyes and went back to his meal. Blaise suddenly leaned over and whispered something in the young man's ear that had D'Artagnan _**giggling**_!

"I suddenly have the urge to defend your honor and virtue again" Porthos said after a moment.

"My honor and virtue are fine" D'Artagnan huffed, "they do not need you defending them, _**or **_you, Alban"

Alban, who was had opened his mouth, closed it. Basile chuckled and popped a grape in his mouth, he wondered how long the three Musketeers could handle Alban's flirting before swords were drawn. Judging from the way Aramis's fingers twitched when Alban fed D'Artagnan a piece of cheese by hand, it wasn't going to be long.

"Darling, is a pet name Alban gave D'Artagnan after our first misadventure"

"Misadventure?" Aramis's eyes lit up at the words, and D'Artagnan groaned when both Porthos and Athos looked very much interested. Five minutes later, Aramis and Porthos were roaring with laughter, Athos had his head down; shoulders shaking suspiciously, and D'Artagnan was reconsidering his choice of friends.

"I disown all of you" he said from the depths of his folded arms, he had buried his face in them earlier when Alban had gotten to the old farmer and cow part.

"Don't be like that darling" Aramis coo'ed.

D'Artagnan lifted his head and glared at the Musketeer, the look promise revenge, Aramis thought he looked like a very grumpy kitten.

_**~.~**_

After food was consumed, D'Artagnan particularly shoved Athos, Porthos, and Aramis out the door when the three had learned that their youngest member was not leaving with them.

"I will see you at the Garrison" D'Artagnan said before closing the door in their faces.

The three stared at the closed door, Aramis wondered how mad D'Artagnan would be if he shot at the lock, then decided he could live with the anger when he heard his younger friend's giggles from the other side of the door.

"Let us go" Athos finally said, "Treville is waiting for us"

The Captain had made it clear before they left for the address that was on the note, that he wanted details upon their return.

"But—" Porthos started to protest.

"He said he'll see us at the Garrison, so we will see him at the Garrison"

Obviously not happy about the situation himself, Athos turned around and started making his way back, Aramis and Porthos behind him.

D'Artagnan returned to the Garrison in the evening, the three of them; after telling Treville what they have learned, had planted themselves at their usual table by the stairs and waited. Upon seeing them he smiled and waved before quickly making his way up to Treville's office. All three are very tempted to follow and press their ears against the closed door, but Treville had threaten to transfer them over to the Red Guards if he caught them doing so again, none of the men were sure he could but rather not risk it.

An hour later, D'Artagnan came back down, and settled between Aramis and Athos. The Gascon smiled under their gaze, smiling growing when Athos's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"So" Aramis began breaking the silence.

"So?" said D'Artagnan

Aramis's eyes suddenly turned mischievous, "Well we be seeing mademoiselle Charlotte again?"

D'Artagnan doesn't even hesitate or even blush, instead his eyes turned sultry as he leaned close to the man.

"That depends monsieur" he purred in his "other" voice.

That voice wasdoing_** things**_ to the three Musketeers.

"O-On w-what?" Aramis stuttered, eyes a little wide.

Athos and Porthos watched as D'Artagnan leaned even closer, and whispered in Aramis's ear. Whatever was said had Aramis squeaking and blushing a very dark red, and no matter how much they ask, the man refused to tell him what their youngest member had said.

D'Artagnan, for his part, just leaned back and howled with laughter.

Later, when Athos, Porthos, and Aramis return to their homes respectively, they will find a note waiting for them, and inside that note are these words.

_Take care of our darling mademoiselle._

-End-


End file.
